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The taller agent took a step forward. "Mr. Forster, we have some questions about your recent activities in Coldwater, Utah. This will go much easier if you cooperate."
Tommy licked his lips. "You're not really federal agents, are you?"
The shorter one smiled. "We can discuss this somewhere more private. Unless you'd prefer we handle things here?"
Gabriel shoved his door open and stepped out. "I think here works just fine," he said. Following his lead, Sheila got out on the opposite side.
Both agents turned, hands disappearing into their jackets. Gabriel's own jacket was open, showing his shoulder holster.
What's the play, Dad? Sheila thought. Please don't get us all killed.
"This is a federal matter," the taller agent said smoothly. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"Funny," Gabriel replied, his voice cold. "I don't recall seeing any credentials yet." He walked forward slowly, positioning himself where he could see both agents and Tommy. "I'm Gabriel Stone, former Internal Affairs. Maybe you've heard of me?"
The shorter agent's smile faltered for just a moment. "Mr. Stone. Your reputation precedes you."
"Does it?" Gabriel's own smile was razor-sharp. "And which reputation would that be?"
Sheila moved to flank the agents from the other side. Tommy remained frozen in the middle, watching the scene unfold. The morning sun cast long shadows across the parking lot, and somewhere in the distance, a crow called out.
"This is outside your jurisdiction," the taller agent said. His hand hadn't left his jacket.
"Like my father said," Sheila said, keeping her voice steady, professional, "show us your credentials."
"Or what?" the shorter agent asked softly.
"Or I start making calls," Gabriel replied. "To people who would be very interested to hear about two fake federal agents trying to make a witness disappear."
A bead of sweat rolled down the shorter agent's temple, despite the morning chill. "Witness?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Gabriel took another step forward. His voice dropped lower. "You really think I don't know who sent you?"
The taller agent's face tightened. "Mr. Stone, you're interfering with—"
"A federal investigation?" Sheila cut in. "Then let's call the local field office. I'm sure they'd love to verify your credentials."
She pulled out her phone. The shorter agent's hand moved, but Gabriel's voice stopped him cold.
"That hand comes out of that jacket," Gabriel said quietly, "you better be holding a badge."
The parking lot fell silent. The vacancy sign buzzed. The wind stirred loose sand across the asphalt.
"Think carefully," Gabriel continued. His tone was almost gentle. "About the people who sent you. About whether they'll protect you when this goes bad. Because it will go bad if you try to take this man."
The shorter agent's smile had vanished completely now. "You don't want to do this, Stone."
"No?" Gabriel's eyes were hard. "Ten years ago, I walked away. Let them bury what I'd found. Let them murder my wife. Let them threaten my children." He took another step forward. "You really think I'm walking away again?"
Tommy was moving now, edging away from his truck, closer to Sheila's position. The agents didn't seem to notice—they were too focused on Gabriel.
"Last chance," the taller agent said. "Walk away. Forget you saw any of this."
"I'll make you the same offer," Gabriel said.
Seconds passed. Nobody moved. Then, without warning, Tommy ran.
He sprinted past Sheila's position, heading for the gap between the motel buildings. The agents spun, reaching for their weapons, but Gabriel was faster. His gun cleared his holster first, forcing them to freeze.